


Lost

by wingedcatninja



Series: Whumptober 2020 [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, Confusion, Death, Emotional pain, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Pain, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Separation, Whump, disorientation, hallucination, physical injury, whumptober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedcatninja/pseuds/wingedcatninja
Summary: Sam is lost in the nightmare world of his hallucinations.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947799
Kudos: 4
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober 20th. Sam’s POV. I apologize for nothing.

Each time Sam looked, the body was of someone different. Most times it was Dean or Kat, but sometimes it was Mom, or Dad, or Jo, or Ellen, or Bobby. So many dead in his wake. 

When the voice failed to return after he was done retelling all his failings -- some triggered by the sight of another dead body -- Sam rose on shaky legs and stumbled around the room looking for a way out. His trembling hands slid over the cold concrete wall, feeling the bumps and lumps of the uneven surface. He only looked up when he had walked for what seemed like much too long in the same direction. There was no way the room was that long.

The room had turned into a corridor that disappeared into darkness in the distance, bare of any doors or windows. Sam turned to look behind himself and found a bare wall not four feet away from him. It made his head spin, so he decided not to think about it. 

Step by step, he walked on unsteady legs toward the darkness, never reaching it. Each time he looked, there was just as much corridor in front of him. He refused to look behind him again. 

Keeping his eyes on the floor, he watched his bare feet shuffle on the rough concrete. There was still dried blood on them, darkened by the dust from the floor that had stuck to it before it dried. 

Where was he going? 

Sam stopped, feeling confused and disoriented. Maybe he should go back. But no, he had decided not to look behind him. He could not remember why, but just the thought of looking that way made him nauseated. He looked ahead, the light that seemed to come from nowhere faded maybe thirty feet ahead of him. He looked back down at his feet. 

Counting his steps, Sam estimated when he had moved about thirty feet forward. He looked up, only to find the darkness still the same distance in front of him. Maybe he should go back? He gagged at the mere thought. Resigned, he looked back down and kept his feet shuffling forward, ever forward. Maybe the voice was somewhere in that darkness.


End file.
